I Can't
by Katie of Gryffindor
Summary: Harry's thoughts on who he wants, and who he wants to be.


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Disclaimer: Not mine. Wish they were. Too bad.

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I Can't

By Katie of Gryffindor

Harry Potter woke up early that morning. He opened his eyes slowly, arms tightening around the man next to him. The sleeping figure wriggled a bit in his sleep and buried his face in Harry's bare chest. Harry tilted his head downward and placed a kiss on the top of the other's head. As he did, Harry could smell the strong cologne mixed with that sleepy-smell. Harry knew that this would be over soon, but he did not want to think about that. He knew that as soon as the man in his arms woke up, there would be some morning-after cuddling, but then the man would leave. Harry hated seeing his lover leave him. Harry knew that when they separated, they had to act as though nothing was ever between them. Like they were still against each other. That their wives were the loves of their lives. 

Yes, both men had wives. Both wives were completely in the dark about the affair. Both still thought that their husbands were faithful. Both thought they had the perfect marriages. Both thought that their husbands were in love with them. But they were wrong. So wrong.

Harry knew who he loved, and it wasn't Hermione Granger Potter. No. It was the man he held in his arms. The man he made love to the whole night before. The man that no one ever thought he should care for. 

But he did care. He had ever since the first day they met. Of course, there was the offer for friendship, as there always is when one first meets another. Especially when the someone they were meeting was Harry Potter. 

Harry hated that he was The-Boy-Who-Lived. He hated that now he was The-Man-Who-Saved-The-World. Yes, of course he'd brought about the downfall of Voldemort. How could he not? He was the fucking savior of the Wizarding World. 

Five years ago, while in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Harry learned how to bring down Voldemort. He learned that there _was_ something that could kill someone who took themselves further on the road to immortality than anyone else. And Harry found it. He found Voldemort and finally avenged his parents' deaths, along with all the other wizards that Voldemort had taken from him. Cedric Diggory. Ginny Weasley Longbottom. Neville Longbottom. Rubeus Hagrid. 

And Ron Weasley. 

Harry made Voldemort feel every pain that all Harry's loved ones had felt before their deaths. And Voldemort was taken down. And Harry was the reason for it. And he hated the praise he received for it. 

Sure, he enjoyed it for a while. But when you've been treated special for your entire life, even before you know why, and you get stopped every time you go out... Well it rather sucks. Harry hated that there was so much press about him. He felt like he couldn't blow his nose without someone putting it in the papers. _The Daily Prophet_ had something in it every day about Harry.

And Harry was tired of it all. He just wanted life to be normal. He wanted to be with the one person he truly loved. He did not want to hide. He did not want to pretend. But he knew that if he showed his true self, not only would the world despise him, which would not necessarily be bad, but they would shun him. He would be treated like a second-class citizen. Harry did not give a shit about that. He could handle it. 

But he would never wish that on anyone else. And if he were to out himself, his partner would be exposed as well. And Harry loved the man far too much for that. 

Harry's arms tightened around the bare waist again. The sleeping man shifted himself in his sleep. Harry smiled sadly. Nothing would make him hurt his lover. He could never do that. Harry's love for the other was so strong that Harry would risk everything to be with him. And he knew that was what the other man was doing for him as well. There was so much riding on what would become of this man Harry lay with. There was no way that Harry would make the other man give _everything_ up to be with him. 

Harry reached and brushed a stray lock of hair out of the face now resting on his shoulder. Harry wanted to stay with this man for the rest of his life. He knew that. But it could never be. It had to remain what it was. A secret affair. Stolen glances. Unseen kisses. Veiled love. Concealed meetings. Hidden love-making. 

Harry lay there, looking at the only person he had ever truly loved. The other man was awake now and staring back. The longing Harry felt was reflected back at him. Harry leaned in and the pair shared an intimate kiss. Harry wished the man would stay. He wished he could just lay there, entangled in his lover's embrace, basking in the warmth and love that was shared. He voiced his desire to the man.

But the blonde head shook sadly. Silvery-blue eyes pleaded with Harry not to beg him to stay. Both men knew that they could never be together. The man stared back at Harry, whose eyes were now streaming with tears, as they always did when the two had to separate. And Draco Malfoy shook his head, getting out of bed and getting dressed. 

"I can't."


End file.
